


I Saved the World Today

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Infinite Bad (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Closeted Character, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, F/F, F/M, One Night Stands, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Monday finds you like a bombThat's been left ticking there too longYou're bleeding
Relationships: Joy Dutton/Dorothy Taylor, Joy Dutton/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

They meet at a party; he’s amiable and loosely handsome, in a nondescript sort of way. When he leans in to murmur something at her ear – words Cornelia wouldn’t hesitate to brand as indecent – she downs the rest of her drink and follows him to his car. He smells faintly of cigarette smoke and expensive cologne; she lets him guide her into his lap, the fabric of her dress pooling at her waist, lets him chase his pleasure buried deep inside her.

It does nothing for her, but she still presses the semblance of a kiss to his cheek for his trouble; when he offers her a lift home, she declines, slips out of the car and disappears into the night.

(Never again, she thinks, breaking out in a cold sweat as the dull ache between her legs awakens the dreadful memory of something unspeakable stirring inside her womb, back when she was standing amid the looming ruins of Kharajah.)

She’s on edge until her time of the month comes and goes, proving that she’s not with child; the next time a man makes a move on her, she turns him down without a moment’s hesitation, and she’s infinitely happier for that. If there’s one thing Cornelia has taught her, it’s that a woman doesn’t necessarily need a man in her life, and when all is said and done, she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out on anything.

That is, until Dorothy comes over to Britain for the summer, and all of a sudden, everything she held true about herself crumbles to her feet like dry clay. She hates herself for feeling nothing but relief when Dorothy tells them she broke her engagement to her former mentor, a wealthy and well-renowned fellow physician from Chicago; still, Dorothy looks as calm and collected as ever, and that must count for something, or at least she hopes so.

(Dear old Dorothy, with her quiet attitude and her sensible manners – her familiar features cherished in a number of ways she cannot begin to articulate, not even to herself, let alone to anyone else.)

Unprecedentedly enough, it’s Cornelia herself who broaches the subject with her daughter, late one evening when Dorothy has already retired to her room for the night.

“Do not think for one moment I don’t know what is going on here,” she plunges in, her piercing gaze pinning Joy in her seat. “You’re an adult woman, Joy, and I know this is hardly my place – but I feel like I should make it known, whichever course of action you decide to pursue, I am on your side, always.”

_If only things were that easy_, she thinks, valiantly trying to ignore the warmth spreading to her cheeks. This time last year Dorothy was set to marry a man twenty years her senior, and now she’s back under their roof, and she doesn’t know.

(It’s nearly dawn when she finally gives up on her futile attempts at sleep, slips into Dorothy’s chamber instead. Dorothy stares at her for a long moment, her eyes still bleary with slumber and some unspoken emotion she doesn’t know how to read; then she lifts the edge of the blankets, lets Joy slip in at her side, her arm wrapped snugly around her waist.)


	2. Chapter 2

Dorothy goes back to America early that autumn; except this time Joy is with her, and while they plan to eventually settle somewhere in England, it’s nice to go back to travelling, at least for a while.

They’ve kept their relationship strictly platonic so far, and while Joy doesn’t mind waiting, she occasionally finds herself wondering whether deep down, Dorothy somehow still sees her as the riotous girl she met all those years ago on their way to Drakelow Hall.

(She’s seen Dorothy bathing on occasion, touched herself to the memory of it when she’s alone in the house and no one can hear her. She thinks she should feel ashamed of it, but she’s not, not really.)

It takes Dorothy several weeks to settle her affairs here; during that time, Joy amuses herself by visiting the local library, researching everything she can find about occult-related happenings reported in the area, so that she can write home about it – Cornelia is still delighted about their decision to go and live together, of course she is, but that doesn’t mean she will miss her daughter any less.

(They have talked about it, Dorothy and her, about Cornelia, and how they’re basically giving up on starting a family of their own. She doesn’t think she could bear the thought of carrying a child, anyway, but they’re not ruling it out entirely, should Dorothy feel inclined to – take one for the team, so to speak, with the added burden of social contempt such things entail.)

For all that she doesn’t mind attending formal events as ‘Doctor Taylor’s close friend and associate’, it drives her half-crazy when she catches some pretentious gentleman making eyes at Dorothy from across the room. On one such occasion, she excuses herself, pleading a migraine so that she could leave the function early and go back to sulking in the privacy afforded by Dorothy’s old family home.

Dorothy, however, is not fooled for one second. “I’m a doctor, remember?” she reminds her, hands on her hips, and for a moment there Joy is a fifteen year old all over again. “I know a migraine when I see it, and you’re not having one.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” she shrugs, despondently. “I could have found my way back here even without your help.”

“That’s not – Joy, we promised we would always be open with one another.”

“Then why won’t you tell me why you can’t even bear to touch me?”

Dorothy gapes at her, a look of horror etched on her features. “I never said that.”

“Yes, well, you didn’t exactly need to, now, did you?”

“I thought we agreed –”

“That was months ago! I have been patient, tried to give you as much time as you needed, but I need you to be honest with me now, tell me if that’s – never going to happen, not now, nor ever.”

The hand that touches her cheek is warm, and ever so gentle. “Oh, Joy,” says Dorothy, and then her lips are on hers, and they’re kissing.

(That night, they shake apart in each other’s arms over and over again, their names a litany of whispered pleas within the ceremonial confines of their bed.)


End file.
